


The Intrigues and Wavering of Kenichi Oogawa and Najika Ando

by PrinceHandsome



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Sort Of, and also reference all the parts of Dangan Ronpa I love in the most self indulgent way possible, specific content warnings are at the top of each chapter!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2019-06-01 13:16:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceHandsome/pseuds/PrinceHandsome
Summary: The story of Kenichi Oogawa and Najika Ando, two students of Hope's Peak who find themselves in the middle of The Worst, Most Despair Inducing Incident in the History of Mankind.





	1. Despair Feel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my dear friends Celia (character concept/creation for Najika Ando), Elliot (editing), and Nora (editing).
> 
> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Implied sexual abuse of a minor by their parental figure (nothing explicit is said or shown).

Then

“You’re done, Malone; your days of countin’ bills are over. From now on, you’re gonna be countin’ the days in a cell!”

A series of gunshots followed, and it was impossible to tell where from. Had ‘Sticky Fingers’ Malone, infamous American bank robber, gotten one over on Detective Jack Gumshoe, the private eye who couldn’t be stopped? Kenichi Oogawa covered his mouth, anxiety welling up in his stomach as the battle ended.

“Did you really think I’d fall for your ambush so easy, Malone?”

Even though he had listened to this exact episode at least five or six times before, Kenichi still lept off of his bed, pumping his tiny arms into the air and dancing around his bedroom. Like a well practiced dance, he nimbly avoiding the action figures and lego constructs strewn along the floor.

The Adventures of Jack Gumshoe was an old American Radio Drama - one of relative obscurity - but young Kenichi had been fascinated with Detective stories from a young age. Upon spotting some cassettes labeled with a name he could not read at a sale on someone’s lawn, down the street. His parents rarely indulged him, but even after they said ‘no’ for the fifteenth time, Kenichi persisted and they relented. They had supposed that buying some bootlegged American drama for their son, one he wouldn’t understand anyways, couldn’t do any harm.

One week after buying the tapes, Kenichi Oogawa was speaking, reading, and writing English as if he had been doing so his entire life.

From there, The Adventures of Jack Gumshoe became his escape. It was only a couple of days of listening before he had heard everything there was to hear, but each time he finished the series he rewound the tapes and started again, eyes wide with wonder as if it was the first time each and every time. Every single day when he got home from school he locked himself in his bedroom, sat on his bed and listened, nodding, smiling, and even cheering as Detective Gumshoe came out on top and caught the villain, time and time again. Sometimes he got the girl too, the femme fatale who would betray him halfway through the story, but end up on the side of good by the end. The volume knob was always at 4 and no higher, as per his agreement with his parents. Kenichi was a headstrong child, but he knew better than to clash with them about something so trivial.

_They’re arguing again._

There was a crash from the living room, accompanied by shouting voices. Kenichi reached out and turned the knob up to 7, and then 8, until he could only faintly hear the screaming coming from downstairs. It was another argument over the perceived death of his mother’s dreams. She was an actress, and his father, a writer. The former had retired upon marrying, taking on the role of a typical housewife, while the latter wrote, and wrote, and found himself lacking in the way of substance, fame, and money.

_I wish they would just shut up._

Kenichi could not appreciate what his parents were arguing about and he didn’t care to understand it either. In his mind, arguments were formed when the male Detective trying to reason with his femme fatale. In his mind, a man would only shout at a woman if said woman was some kind of evil seductress who would eventually turn good, the type of woman Jack Gumshoe knew well. Women were beautiful, women would seduce, women would kill, but in these detective dramas, it was always the man who would clash with her, and inevitably redeem her, often before she died doing something heroic and sacrificial. This was the way the world made sense, to young Kenichi.

_I wish I was an orphan, like Jack Gumshoe._

\--

“Najika, I need the files I left in the dining room!”

“Yes, Mama!”

“Najika, did you finalize the reservation for my hotel?”

“Yes, Papa!”

“Najika, I smell dinner burning, you need to pay more attention to what you’re doing!”

“Yes, Mama!”

“Najika, the dishes need washing and the trash needs to be taken out before you serve us dinner! This house is a mess!”

“Yes, Papa!”

When Najika Ando’s Mother finally left the house, off on another out-of-town case defending some client nobody had ever heard of before. She let out a sigh of relief, and yet, felt a longing in her chest.

Things hadn’t always been this way. She had been a normal child doing normal, childish things, but seeing her parents toil away, becoming so distant, it seemed as though her only choice was to help. Her only choice, if she wanted to grow closer to her parents, was to help. They hadn’t initiated it, having never asked Najika for a thing, and yet, Najika provided. In excess. She couldn’t help herself from helping.

Things hadn’t always been this way. Najika Ando preoccupied herself with cleaning the house, regularly re-arranging the furniture when left alone. Her parents remarked upon it so infrequently that it was something that might be considered for her own sake, to keep her hands and mind busy, rather than for the sake of the household. Still, whenever these selfish thoughts entered her head, she could barely do a thing; it was crippling, draining, to think about herself, to think about doing anything for her own sake. For years, she had only thought about helping her parents, and that frame of mind had extended to her teachers and classmates, and even random people she met on the street. She wanted to spend her entire life helping people, and whenever she entertained the idea that she did things for herself, it was like a sickness took hold, making her dizzy and nauseous.

Things hadn’t always been this way, but after years of living as a child assistant, Najika Ando was convinced that helping people was all there was to life and to do anything else was to be sick, to be wrong.

As she stood at the window, watching her Mother’s car drive away, she felt a pair of strong hands on her shoulders; her Father was leaving soon, on business of a different sort. He was a mildly successful accountant, and at times had to leave home to meet with clients. He preferred to stay at home with his daughter, as much as he could. After all, he didn’t away quite as often as his wife.

“You know I want a proper goodbye before I leave, don’t you, Najika?”

“Yes, Papa.”

\--

When Kenichi’s Mother was gone, he would often move into the living room, watching TV whenever his tapes didn’t strike his fancy. Although his true passion was in the distant world of Detectives and villains, he would absorb anything like a sponge; he watched antique shows, memorizing the values of items as estimated by the experts, shows discussing business that ranged from large scale Japanese corporations like the Towa Group to small, family-owned stores Kenichi had never heard of in far off villages. He rapidly flipped through channels, eyes roaming the screen wildly and taking in whatever he could in the seconds before he switched channels, finally settling on the local news.

_Another lady died today. Why do people kill other people so much?_

Murders weren’t uncommon in Japan; there were places with massive and unexplained amounts of disappearances, like Morioh Town, and Tokyo saw its fare share of violent crime and abuse of power. Kenichi dimly thought that the rest of the world was probably the same exact way. Still, he couldn’t help but ponder the matter - he of course knew that at times one would kill in self defense, but what kind of situation would necessitate that response in the first place? What would bring a person to want to hurt another person?

“We enter the fifth day of a murder case baffling the police, and indeed, the nation-at-large. Just days ago, the body of local woman, Tane Haru was discovered in an open field, having apparently drowned, yet most bodies of water in the area are still completely frozen over. We reached out to-”

The woman’s pleasant voice faded out, as Kenichi’s vision went out of focus; he was thinking now. It was just now becoming Spring, very few bodies of water had been thawed; additionally… if she had sustained water damage to her body, yet was found in an open, grassy field, what could that mean? The young Kenichi Oogawa felt a stirring in his brain, and electricity throughout his body, an unbearable feeling he couldn’t explain, and couldn’t tolerate, yet one that made him… smile.

Quickly, he switched off the TV, and retreated to his room, shutting the door and turning his detective tapes back on as he started to write furiously, sloppily, in one of his school notebooks.

_Someone killed Tane Haru, and I’m going to find out who did it, just like Jack Gumshoe._

For days, Kenichi worked on the case, writing our theories and following leads where he could; he made up a variety of ways to get to where he needed to go, fabricating shopping trips so that he could get information from locals, and saying he was staying with a friend after school. In reality he was staying out all night trying to survey locations related to the crime. He couldn’t get as close as he wanted to, nor could he get straight answers from the majority of adults he questioned. As an eight year old child, his options were limited, but a theory was forming in his notes, one he thought only needed review from someone who knew the subject matter better than he did.

\--

“Najika, get back here right now!”

The front door of Najika’s sizeable residence burst open and a weeping 8 year old ran through it into the cold night air dressed in her pajamas, clouds and kitty cats against a sky blue fabric background. She could hear her father screaming at her, furious, but the more her little legs worked, the more distant and unintelligible it became.

_I’m not going back._

As she ran down the cold sidewalk, barefoot, she wished more than anything to see her mother’s car coming back down the road, that each passing pair of headlights would belong to the family car. She knew her Mother wouldn’t actually protect her, she never did, but the lie in her own mind was too beautiful to disbelieve; she had to believe that someone, anyone, was coming to save her. Sirens and horns roared and echoed through the residential district as fire trucks and ambulances passed, another tragedy on the horizon, one Najika couldn’t think about. She could barely hear them over her own thoughts.

_This isn’t for me, it’s helping. I’m helping if I don’t go back._

Her logic wasn’t rational, it wouldn’t have made sense to anyone but herself but all the same, it was what she was forced to insist upon. The thought of doing something for herself, even if it was for her own safety, her own health, made her more nauseous and dizzy than she already was. Another fire truck passed, sirens roaring so loudly Najika could feel it in her teeth, and she broke into a sprint, a run with more purpose. She was yearning for an outcome with less Despair.

“Help!”

Najika kept running, faster and faster. She wasn’t an athletic girl by any means, but the cold night air whipping against her face felt good. The pavement, the rocks, the dirt against her feet, it all felt right. The pain of it made her feel alive.

Snapped out of her sleepwalking by the siren at her side, a gawking firefighter looking out his window at the little girl running alongside their truck. They were both rushing towards the rapidly spreading house fire, only minutes away.

“Help! Please! My family is still in there!”

_Help. They need help._

Najika felt only the faintest register of pain as flames licked at her skin, her bare feet stepping on burning, splintered wood; the smoke of the raging fire seeped into her open mouth, filling her lungs, and causing her eyes to sting and water. Najika pressed on, calmly looking around the inferno before lifting some burning debris away from the stairs, slowly walking up the groaning and crackling steps.

When Najika Ando stepped out of the roaring flames carrying two adults, one on each shoulder, and the family cat in her arms. All the onlookers watched her with awe, too stunned to move or speak; an eight year old child had saved three from the fire, looking singed and caked with ash but otherwise unharmed. Even the emergency workers present were in too much disbelief to move right away.

_Why are they looking at me like that?_

_What I just did… was selfish._

\--

“Excuse me, sir! Excuse me!”  
Kenichi Oogawa jumped up and down, frantically waving his arms in the air. He was barely tall enough for his hands to be seen by the desk clerk. He was a man with mussed black hair and a uniform that clearly hadn’t been properly taken care of, likely discarded on the floor once home only to be put on the next day without being washed or ironed.

Although the clerk saw Kenichi’s hands and heard his voice, he seemed content to ignore the young boy. His eyes drifting over the text of the book he was reading, a novel entitled Lolita, although Kenichi had not yet mastered romanized languages enough to know what the cover said.

“What do you want, kid?” Came the clerk’s surprisingly gentle, boyish voice.

“Um, I solved a murder! The murder of Tane Haru! I’m pretty sure I know who did it…”

The clerk chuckled and turned another page of his novel, licking his finger to make sure the pages weren’t stuck together. It was a used copy, picked up from the library, and there was no telling what sort of people had handled the book before him.

“Uh huh? Was it a giant monster? Should I call Ultraman?” The clerk asked.

“Um, no… It was a man named Yuuto Hinata. His family owns a freezer business, and I believe he froze Tane Haru’s body for months before leaving it out to thaw in the spring. He avoided obvious signs of cold-related death, so… he probably strangled her, judging from the bruises on her neck, waited until she was at the very earliest stages of decomposition, and then froze her…”

The clerk looked away from his book and leaned forward, staring at the young Oogawa with eyebrows raised.

“How did you know about the bruises on her neck?” He asked.

“It was on the news. They showed pictures of the body, and everything! I recorded it on a tape and paused it to take notes.”

“You recorded a news report about a dead body, and paused it to stare at it?”

“Yep!”

“Stay here, I’m going to get Botan-san…”

\--

One volunteer firefighter wrapped a blanket around Najika, while another fetched her a cup of water. While she was covered in burns, especially on her extremities, they weren’t nearly as severe as they should have been.

Nobody knew how to explain exactly what the young girl was, whether she was one of those gifted individuals the officers had heard about, or if she’d simply been lucky, but there was a more pressing matter they had to worry about. One that was far above their pay grade: during the medical examination, they had found bruises and signs of sexual abuse on her abdomen and coupled with the fact that she had been crying and wearing pajamas, there was little doubt as to why she was alone, in the middle of the night. They had collectively agreed to not call her parents just yet, and to instead defer to the police.

When the police arrived, they too were at a loss. Ishikari was a quiet town, bereft of much controversy other than the occasional disappearance or two. Yet here was a child, obviously the victim of horrific abuse, and all signs pointed to a parent being responsible, judging from her reactions to their questioning.

“Ando-san… Why did you run into that building? We understand someone hurt you, but…”

“I wanted to die.”

_I’m ugly, and selfish. What kind of monster would do something so selfish?_

“Ando-san, we’re… going to place you in a safe place, for now. Is that okay? Just for a day or two, while we ask your Mommy and Daddy some questions.”

_Put me back. I want to go home._

“If your Mommy or your Daddy ever hurt you… We want you to tell us, alright?”

_They didn’t hurt me enough. I’m still bad. I’m still selfish._

_Put me back. I want them to hurt me more._

\--

Kenichi Oogawa watched as Yuuto Hinata was loaded into the back of a police cruiser, spitting curses and struggling. The leads had been followed, the freezers inspected for any traces of blood or hair, and the body checked for any signs of artificial freezing agents.

He had insisted his innocence to the last, and yet, the young amateur investigator had been able to track his movements and shoot down every last alibi based off of testimony and unusual circumstances. There were still questions, there always were in cases like this, but Kenichi didn’t mind. He took pride in the rage of the culprit, and in his hateful gaze.

_Have fun rotting in a cell, you monster._

“You’ve done a good thing today, Oogawa-san.”

Kenichi was startled from his thoughts by the warm, fatherly voice of Jomei Botan, a veteran Inspector who knew how to follow every last lead and get things done. He was the only one who would take a chance on Kenichi, and it paid in dividends.

“Thank you, Botan-sensei,” Kenichi said, with a respectful bow. Jomei laughed, at that.

“You don’t need to act like such a grown up, Oogawa-san. You’ll waste your youth, acting so serious all the time. Give yourself a pat on the back.”

Kenichi struggled to reach behind himself and pat his own back, which made Jomei laugh some more. He seemed to be a good spirited man, more so than any of his fellows in the central division of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police. Kenichi liked that about him.

“Now, I’d say such a rising star deserves a reward. What’s your favorite kind of ice cream, Oogawa-san?”

Kenichi had to think for a few moments. He wasn’t sure.

“I’ve only ever had ice cream a few times, and only on my birthday, so I haven’t tried enough to say…” Kenichi concluded, serious as ever.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to buy you every flavor that interests you, won’t I?”

\--

Najika Ando was barely aware of what was happening as she was shown the photographs and papers. The two women now taking custody of her looked like a loving couple, and she wondered in a dull manner if they would hurt her too. The more she retreated from the reality of her situation, the less her hands and feet hurt. It didn't matter if her burns were healing or not, Najika couldn't feel them. She couldn't feel anything.

_The best thing to do is to not think about myself. I should help the police men more._

Her reaction to being taken away from her parents was met with confusion. The officers who had informed her expected her to cry, or to be confused, or any normal child’s reaction, but instead Najika just asked how she could help things proceed smoothly. They were at a loss for words, once again, faced with the bizarre and eerily assisting-obsessed personality of this girl.

“You… don’t need to help us, Ando-san. Just stay put, and try to relax, okay? You’re going to be safe, from now on.”

Najika stared through the officers, her gaze empty and vacant. The tension in the air only increased, until she smiled and seemed to wake up from her trance.

“I never said I wanted to be safe, Officer-san! That would be a terribly selfish thing to wish for!”

\--

“Kirigiri-san, this is Oogawa Kenichi, a young man with quite a bit of promise. I’ve been teaching him what I know, but… there’s only so much an old man like me can say before I start to ramble on,” Jomei chuckled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“And you think an even older man would have better luck, grooming the youth of tomorrow!?” The even older man exclaimed.

The self-depreciating quip caused the pair to laugh together, while the silver-haired, lilac-eyed girl and Kenichi both stood awkwardly.

“Don’t say that! I hear the talent scouts at Hope’s Peak are dying to send your granddaughter an invitation!”

“Don’t forget, young Oogawa-san here is a year older than her, so he might beat her to it!”

Kenichi looked between the two older men, confused at their friendliness and the way they spoke of him. He pointedly avoided eye contact with the younger woman, apparently Kirigiri-san’s daughter, her gaze far too intense and analyzing for him to feel comfortable with.

“Oh, where are my manners? Oogawa-san, this is Kirigiri Fuhito, of the world-famous Kirigiri detective clan. You may remember the name from when you studied under the Shirogane clan, yes?”

Kenichi nodded.

“And this beautiful young lady is Kirigiri Kyoko, his granddaughter and student. You two will get along famously. Just don’t get any ideas, or Kirigiri-san will show you all the dangerous secrets he’s learned, over the years!”

Fuhito and Jomei both laughed, while Kyoko stood stone-faced the entire time. Kenichi nodded again, swallowed, and bowed to her.

“It’s nice to meet you both. I’ll do my best to learn from you and become the best Detective I can be, so please look forward to it!”

There was an awkward silence for a few moments, before Fuhito laughed.

“Where did you find such a serious boy, Botan-san? He’s acting older than we are! You must be a bad influence!”

Kenichi blushed at the laughter and straightened out, but to his surprise, Kyoko had cracked a small smile at his demeanor. Apparently she did have a sense of humor. The expression sent his heart wild, beating faster and faster, even as he felt his cheeks flush with color and heat.

_I… Want to impress Kirigiri-san! I want to see that smile again, no matter what!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading the first chapter of my very first Danganronpa Fic! Please leave a comment with feedback, or just your thoughts!


	2. Danganronpa!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my buddy Elliot for rigorous editing and the character of Junichi Saitou, and once again, all credit for the character creation/concept of Najika Ando goes to my friend Celia.
> 
> No specific content warnings for this chapter.

Now

“I want all of you to look around; you, and your fellow students, make up the best and brightest Hope for mankind’s future. Whatever your talent, Hope’s Peak will elevate you beyond simply being the best, so that you may move forward and create an even brighter future for generations to come.”

Kenichi Oogawa scoffed. Then, he chuckled - transcribing the speech as quickly as he could in messy, scribbled handwriting. He didn’t bother taking his nose out of his detective’s notebook; despite his reverence for Jin Kirigiri, he didn’t believe a word of what was coming out of the man’s mouth. He had met so many politicians, so many police commissioners, all the grandstanding started to blur together.

_Every single one? With this group of freaks? Give me a break, Kirigiri-sama…_

The massive building in front of the crowd, and behind the stage, towered over all of the other buildings in the small campus, and indeed, over all the buildings in the bustling, urban area of Tokyo in which it sat.

It was like the school stood at the center of the entire world. Hope’s Peak Academy.

It brought in top students from every field imaginable, a government-funded school of privilege. As the rumors went, if you attended this academy and graduated, you’d live a life of comfort and opportunity. With hundreds of years of tradition backing up this reputation, it sent the best of the best into society year after year.

Allegedly built to instill Hope in the nation, and in later years, the entire world, the name Hope’s Peak was a fitting one.

_Give me a break… Talk about on-the-nose..._

As the official guidelines went, there were two things you needed to attend the school: The first was that you needed to be a high school student; the second was that you had to be the very, unquestionably, absolute best at whatever it was you did. No ordinary students could enroll, and the only way to gain entry was to be scouted by the school itself.

Standing at the front entrance were a crowd of supposed ‘Ultimate’ students, listening to Jin Kirigiri give his opening speech, each one carrying their own hopes and dreams for the school life ahead.

The bright sun beat down upon the gathered students as Headmaster Kirigiri finished his speech and the audience burst into applause, startling Kenichi. Immersed in the Headmaster’s speech he had forgotten where he was. The crowd and noise seemed suffocating, when Kenichi found himself brought back to reality.

_I hate crowds. Especially crowds full of self-obsessed losers._

Scowling up at the stage, Kenichi's eyes briefly passed over those stood next to the Headmaster. A few uniformed members of Hope’s Peak Security were present, along with five men he didn’t recognize. One was a proud looking old man with tall white hair, hunched over, and wearing a fashionable looking jacket. The other four were all dressed identically in drab funeral suits, or something like them, although Kenichi briefly mused that he was dressed similarly.  
From right to left, the closest to Jin to the furthest, Kenichi scanned over the faces he saw:

One was tall and resembled Jin Kirigiri to some degree, although he had much darker skin, and unusually thick looking eyebrows.

The second was a very serious looking old man, around the hunched-over man’s age if Kenichi had to guess, and for a moment, the young detective mused that he had a face shape alarmingly similar to that of a pistachio.

The third was a fat man of medium weight, with thin-framed glasses and neatly parted brunette hair, much like Kenichi liked to wear his.

The final man was the shortest and oldest looking of the bunch, his white hair long and tied back, making him look even more mysterious, or menacing, by comparison.

Kenichi’s thoughts were interrupted by another round of applause, Jin Kirigiri giving some closing statement he had failed to pay attention to, quietly cursing himself. As the crowd began to disperse, Jin approached the hunched over old man and started to talk with him about something, a conversation Kenichi would have killed to be a part of, while the other four men shuffled away, back behind the stage.

Once again, even more irritatingly, Kenichi’s concentration was broken, although this time it was only by a single individual. She was a shorter woman with pink hair, recoiling after colliding with his chest on accident, likely being pushed about by the crowd vacating the entrance grounds.

Kenichi affixed his trademark frown, brow furrowed, and prepared a scathing insult before hearing her stammering apologies. He could never stay mad at a girl for long.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m very sorry!”

She was wearing mostly pink, matching her hair, including a sweater vest with heart buttons and a pink skirt. Her eyes, and the thick-framed glasses in front of them matched the rest of her ensemble just as well. She stared up at him, worried.

_She’s cute._

The sweater vest may have been unflattering on any other woman, but whoever this was, Kenichi could appreciate her figure regardless. He quickly coughed and blushed when he realized he had been caught staring.

“Just watch where you’re going, Pinky. What the Hell are you supposed to be, anyways? The Ultimate Jelly Donut?”

The girl continued giving him an apologetic look, his joke not fazing her at all. Was it his constantly serious tone? The possibility crossed Kenichi’s mind that she just didn’t get it.

_She’s seriously… way too cute!_

“Um… No, I’m… My name is Najika Ando, the Ultimate Assistant of the 77th Class! I’m sorry to have made such a bad first impression! I’ll do whatever I can to be of use to you from now on!”

Kenichi frowned even more deeply at Najika before sighing and rubbing the back of his head. Her voice was gentle, and careful, each word enunciated so meticulously and precisely, she almost sounded like a particularly convincing text-to-speech program.

“Give me a break… Ando, right? There’s no need to go saying crap like that… I’m Kenichi Oogawa, the Ultimate Consultant of the 77th Class. I guess that makes us classmates, right?”

“O-Oh, classmates!?” Najika suddenly exclaimed, excitedly. “I’ve never been friends with any of my classmates before! A-Ah, this is so exciting! And… you’re a Consultant? Does that mean you help people, just like me?”

Kenichi continued to look dubiously at Najika, scowling.

“Hey hey, who the Hell said we were friends? And don’t go confusing my brand of Consultation with some kind of cushy office job… I’m a bona-fide genius, Ando. I get called in when the shit-for-brains normal people can’t get the job done. I guess that makes me sound like an overpaid babysitter, now that I think about it…”

As the last few students shuffled out of the entrance pathway to the Hope's Peak building proper, either seeking to get out of the sun or just to explore the grounds, the voice caught Kenichi off guard.

“A genius? What an interesting claim! From your vulgar manner of speaking, I never would have thought it. What a fantastic way to disguise your intelligence, Oogawa-san.”

It wasn't Najika's voice, and as Kenichi glanced about, he spotted an utterly bizarre looking man, looking no older than he or Najika. The blonde was wearing a purple jacket, distinctly breaking the Hope’s Peak dress code, and was adorned with all manner of occult-looking symbols. His gaze was glassy and vacant, almost like a living doll.

_This is your Hope, huh, Kirigiri-sama? Give me a break..._

“... Who the Hell are you supposed to be?”

“Oh! How rude of me, I completely forgot to introduce myself. As for who I’m supposed to be… Junichi Saito, the Ultimate Occultist of the 76th Class. That makes me your… Senpai, yes?”

Kenichi’s scowl turned into a look of full blown disgust at the very implication of addressing such a bizarre man with an honorific like that. Najika, on the other hand, seemed to have no such reservations, bowing immediately and emphatically.

“Saito-senpai, it’s nice to meet you! My name is Najika Ando, the Ultimate Assistant of the 77th Class!”

“It was no different, hearing your introduction for the second time. I wonder… have you been rehearsing? Oh, did I say that out loud?”

“Second time? So you were listening in on our conversation. Why doesn’t a freak like you just move along?”

Kenichi inserted himself in between Najika and Junichi, turning the triangle formation into a straight line, one with a protective middle, an amused beginning, and a confused end.

“A freak?” Junichi asked, as if egging Kenichi on, thought his true intentions were masked by that glassy stare and vacant smile.

“Oogawa-san, Saito-senpai may be odd, but you shouldn’t be so rude, h-he’s just trying to introduce himself,” Najika said.

“Oh, don’t worry, Ando-san, Ken-san is just being protective,” Junichi reassured Najika.

“What did you just call me?”

“He’s right, y’know! Except, well… He doesn’t have any room to talk, I guess… You three are like a traveling freak show that nobody would bother to see!”

Another newcomer. Kenichi sighed, his entire body deflating as he did, as if he could barely muster the energy to be irritated anymore. Another blonde had been added to the vertible rogue’s gallery of people causing Kenichi Oogawa’s blood pressure to rise; this time it was an absolutely miniscule girl with her hair done up in two massive, banana-shaped twintails, a very classical, traditional looking kimono adorning her undersized body.

“Lost? You someone’s brat?” Kenichi asked.

“Why? Looking for your next victim?” The girl asked back, snickering behind her hand.

Kenichi blinked and shook his head, caught off guard by such a sharp barb from such a tiny girl. Kenichi got the impression that Najika felt the same way, judging from her reaction. Junichi continued to stare vacantly, as though his body was present, but his mind, or soul, was somewhere else.

“E-Excuse me?” Kenichi asked, incredulously.

“Huh? Did I hit close to home right away? Usually I need some time to really nail down insecurities, but… I guess my instincts about you being some lolicon addict who buys weird DVDs in shady, back alley shops was dead-on! Wahoo!” The little girl said, suddenly cheering.

“I-I’m sure Oogawa-san doesn’t do anything illicit like that! Uhm, i-if you’re lost, maybe I can help you-” Najika began, before being cut off by the yet another curt response from the pint-sized terror.

“Do you guys seriously think I’m some lost kid? Sheesh… My name is Hiyoko Saionji, the Ultimate Traditional Dancer, of the 77th Class! Aren’t people who go to this school supposed to be smart, or something?”

Kenichi and Najika exchanged a glance and as one, their faces fell.

“77th Class… Give me a break… A little gremlin like you is our classmate!?” Kenichi exclaimed, putting a hand on his face, exasperated.

Hiyoko just giggled in response, a hand held to her mouth, demurely.

“If you guys think I’m the worst thing in the 77th class, get ready… You won’t believe half of the freaks I’ve met!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave a review, feedback, or just your general thoughts!


	3. What The Adults Gave Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my buddy Elliot for taking time out of his busy schedule to edit this chapter.
> 
> Specific content warnings for this chapter: Implied cannibalism, vomit.

Then

The conversation transpiring in the front seat was muffled, practically non-existent, as Kenichi Oogawa stared at the blurred green outside the car window. Hokkaido was a long drive from Tokyo and no matter how many times he went over the case notes in his head, he couldn’t fend off the boredom and fatigue of the car ride.

_ Jack Gumshoe would probably be monologuing right now. He’d say something cool, like… one more time, from the top. _

They were on their way to a small rural village called Kyogoku, some place Kenichi had never heard of and would never have visited if it wasn’t for the disappearances. The case had come to the Kirigiri Clan, a legendary family of detectives, and while Fuhito Kirigiri had taken the case, he passed it along to a long time friend in the Tokyo Police Force as something of an impromptu training exercise for the up and coming Kenichi Oogawa.

That very long time friend was the one driving the car. Jomei Botan had enjoyed a healthy career boost as the mentor to young Kenichi Oogawa, and while he had always remained humble in televised interviews and downplayed his role in each case, he never turned down the stream of commendations and decorations bestowed upon him by the Commissioner General.

_I wish they would have given me one of those medals._

In the passenger’s seat was the silver haired ace detective himself, Fuhito Kirigiri. Although he was aged, a grandfather now, his mind hadn’t faltered one bit. To those who knew the Kirigiri Clan, he was without equal; even when training under the Shirogane Clan of Detectives Kenichi heard reverent expressions of his skill. Now that they were on a case together, the young Detective was eager to see him in action. Despite Fuhito’s keen mind and impeccable skills of perception and deduction, he carried with him an unusual sense of humor, taking delight in misleading and frustrating family, friends and peers alike.

Seated in the back, behind Fuhito, was his granddaughter, Kyoko Kirigiri, the new hopeful of the Clan. Kenichi wasn’t sure of the details, but it seemed her mother and father were no longer present in her life, leaving it to Kyoko to not only shoulder the burden of being the next in a the long line of Kirigiri detectives, but also to carry an adult-like demeanor. Her hair was a light shade of lilac, nearly silver, and her gaze was similarly cold and steely, saying virtually nothing despite Kenichi’s attempts to tease conversation out of her.

Even now, sharing the back seat with her, Kenichi unconsciously forced himself against the window as much as he could, to distance himself from her intimidating aura.

_She’s so cute… but also… seriously scary…_

Kenichi Oogawa himself had been working tirelessly on case after case, following homicide after homicide for five years, and each one was solved without fail; most were crimes of passion, a jealous lover or demented stalker, but on occasion Kenichi had the rare pleasure to solve a premeditated crime, untangling complicated webs and plans to catch the culprit.

There were talks of his future admittance into Hope’s Peak, but such things weren’t even for Fuhito or Jomei to decide. The only way to get into Hope’s Peak was to be scouted and invited by the enigmatic Headmaster himself.

Still, such lofty thoughts were far off in Kenichi’s mind. He had no interest in the politics and lateral movement that came with being a Detective, simply wanting to solve crimes and catch bad people, like Jack Gumshoe, and in between each case, gorge himself on sweet desserts. It was a simple life, but one he was satisfied with.

“Are you watching carefully, Oogawa-kun; if you yawn, or blink, you’ll miss Kyogoku entirely!”

Kenichi cracked a smile at Fuhito’s strange joke; they weren’t passing Kyogoku, so there wasn’t any actual chance of missing it, but he got the idea. As the foliage broke, Kenichi leaned forward and looked through the front windshield, taking in the remarkably mundane sights of the village.

“Do you want me to drop you off at a restaurant, while I check in at our hotel? You must be starving,” Jomei mentioned, as they came to the exit of the Shiribetsu Highway. Kenichi’s stomach groaned and shifted in response.

“You’re offering to carry all of our luggage!? Botan-san, you’re too kind!” Fuhito was playing around again, getting Kenichi to let out an amused huff; he tried to act serious, but he could never stop smiling around the older detective.

As they came off of the highway, Jomei slowed the car, squinting out the windows at the businesses ahead before stopping in front of some kind of ramen shop, Ramen Izumi, looking so stereotypically local Kenichi could conceive that they had accidentally driven onto a film set. Kyoko left the car without a word and Kenichi quickly followed, getting out on his own side. Jomei rolled down his window, motioning for Kenichi to approach him. Acting the part of a father, Jomei brushed off the front of Kenichi’s slacks, and reached up to make sure his tie was straight.

“You look handsome, Oogawa-kun, don’t be so nervous. Is it Kirigiri-chan?”

Kenichi snorted at the ‘chan’ honorific, but then nodded.

“She might seem scary, but she’s just a kid like you, so don’t be so afraid of her. Just talk to her the way you talk to me. Maybe you two both like sweet stuff. She probably doesn’t have many friends her age, so forgive her awkwardness,” Jomei said, coaching Kenichi, who nodded attentively, before bowing.

“Thank you, Botan-sensei. I’ll see you at the hotel.”

As Jomei drove away, the trio of Kenichi, Fuhito, and Kyoko shuffled into the shop, almost completely deserted. Kenichi briefly wondered why the staff were giving them such dirty looks, he took a look at the menu and realized that the shop was only open for lunch, meaning they had arrived minutes from closing time.

They were seated, the only people besides the staff in the wooden building. Kenichi shivered, he wasn’t used used to buildings that weren’t temperature controlled or sealed from the outside environment, but upon seeing Kyoko’s stoic reaction, tried to act more like her, straightening out his posture and taking on a neutral expression.

“What sort of ramen do you like, Oogawa-kun?”

Kenichi furrowed his brow at Fuhito’s question; he hadn’t had ramen very many times in his life, only eating the instant-made cups when he was younger whenever his mother hadn’t made dinner.

“Do they make sweet ramen…?”

“I’ll have the miso, with pork,” Kyoko stated, only having looked at the menu for a minute or two at most, closing it and setting it down. Kenichi wondered what ‘miso’ meant, but decided that pork sounded good.

“I-I’ll have that too!”

Fuhito laughed at the overly enthusiastic declaration, collecting their menus. “I’ll go give them our order, and ask about the bathroom… You youngsters can hold it forever, but us old-timers have to go all the time!”

Like that, Fuhito had excused himself from the table, and with him went Kenichi’s only life-line, his only excuse to avoid talking to Kyoko. Without the third person at the table the silence was thick in the air, neither saying anything for minutes on end. Taking Jomei’s advice, Kenichi finally cleared his throat and spoke.

“So… do you like sweet stuff, Kirigiri-san?”

Kyoko tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and straightened her green jacket, looking off to the side as if Kenichi wasn’t even there.

“Do you always feel the need to make small talk? Or is it just because you’re nervous? I find small talk boring, and unnecessary. A true measure of enjoyed company is being able to enjoy silence together.”

Kenichi swallowed, and felt his heart sink into his stomach at such a stoic sounding reply.

_Kirigiri-san really is the strong and silent type… I don’t stand a chance…!_

Then, to Kenichi’s immense shock, Kyoko cracked a small smile. “But, I suppose there’s no harm in getting to know each other better, if we’re going to be working together from now on. I prefer bitter flavors; whenever I need something to wake me up, or give me energy, I place a piece of dark chocolate on my tongue, and drink some black coffee; the coffee melts and mixes with the chocolate before I swallow it. The combination is rich in caffeine, and the bitterness helps keep my mind alert.”

Kenichi’s face lit up; he didn’t agree with her taste in the slightest, but the very idea that she was speaking to him or acknowledging him in any way, made his heart beat out of control and his cheeks flush red with joy.

“Wow, is that really true!? I’ll have to try it! Except… I only eat milk chocolate, or white chocolate, and I like my coffee with lots of milk and sugar, but… I’m sure the effect will be the same!”

Kyoko continued faintly smiling, and the mix of her expression and the aroma of their ramen being prepared in the kitchen made Kenichi feel as though he was having a very good dream, one he didn’t want to wake up from.

“Your tastes are quite common, I can’t fault you for it, but I would highly recommend you branch out and try new things. An over-reliance on sweets can lead to sugar highs, and crashes. You’ll become groggy and slow, if deprived from sugar for too long.”

Kenichi gasped. “Deprived of sweets!? B-But I have a lot of money! And even if I run out of all my money, Botan-sensei has a lot too! I’m sure he could buy me some ice cream!”

Kyoko’s smile grew larger, from Kenichi’s misunderstanding, and she shook her head. “My grandfather has been away for quite some time… I’ll go check on him, and see how long it will be until we have our food.”

Kenichi watched as Kyoko hopped off of her seat and made her way across the small restaurant, sliding open the kitchen door and peeking inside. His stomach churned and growled once more, with the new rush of smells, and even though he almost never ate proper savory meals, he couldn’t stop thinking about how delicious his pork ramen would be.

Without saying anything, Kyoko shut the door again, carefully and measuredly making her way over to Kenichi; despite her stoic expression, she couldn’t hide her immense unease. She almost looked like she was going to be sick.

“We should go to the hotel. Now.”

Kenichi blinked in surprise, casting his gaze back to the kitchen door. Getting down from his own seat, he made his way over to it, but Kyoko seized his arm, gripping it so hard he could already feel it bruising.

“Don’t.”

The command was simple, but Kenichi couldn’t obey it. His curiosity was far too great, now.

“I’m just going to take a peek. I’ll be careful, okay?”

Kyoko kept her grip, staring at Kenichi with such an intense gaze he thought he would wither on the spot. Apparently convinced, she slowly let go of him, and stood by the entryway as Kenichi slid open the kitchen door.

A man with a slack expression stared back at him, but the head was all there was; there was no body, no limbs, it was just a bloody, severed head, sitting on the stovetop.

_What…?_

Some of the bubbling pots, full of broth, had eyes or human limbs floating in them. On another countertop, segments of belly had been sliced off of a naked man’s torso, the arms, legs, and head already removed, perhaps belonging to the severed head on the stove.

_I don’t understand…_

_What’s happening…?_

_Why is this…_

Attempting to cover his mouth as he doubled over, vomit spilled through the cracks in his fingers, a second gush spilling even more on the floor. Kenichi couldn’t stop throwing up, his vision blurry with tears. His brain couldn’t process what was happening, as his body wretched and emptied itself in sheer horror.

It felt like an eternity for the young man, but only moments had passed before Kyoko grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to straighten up and move towards the exit. Kenichi still couldn’t understand what was happening, as he staggered behind the shorter woman.

“What…”

He couldn’t even begin to think of what to ask her, as they left the restaurant, into the cold, rainy air.

“We need to get to the hotel. Botan-san will know what to do,” Kyoko stated decisively.

“Where…”

“Oogawa-san, I need you to walk on your own. We have to move quickly, and I can’t carry you the entire way.”

“Why…”

Kenichi snapped back to reality as Kyoko slapped him, a red palm mark already appearing. The pain was intensified by the cold. He blinked a few times, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket.

“I-I’m okay… I’m okay. Please… don’t hit me again…”

Kyoko’s expression was deadly serious, a scowl. She had no patience for the younger detective’s reaction. In her mind, there was no time to be horrified, or revolted.

“Do you want to survive, Oogawa-san?”

“I-I do…”

“Then we need to find Botan-san, and my grandfather. Our only other option is to stay here, and die.”

Kenichi nodded, his mind still hazy, but following every word Kyoko said.

“I’ll be right behind you, Kirigiri-san.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a review, feedback, or just your general thoughts, and leave a kudos on this work if you liked it!


	4. School Ordeal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's our first current-day POV chapter for Najika Ando, so I hope everyone enjoys this peek inside her brain!
> 
> Special thanks to my dear friends Elliot (editing, and the characters of Junichi & Takara) and Celia (original concept for Najika Ando).
> 
> No content warnings apply.

Now

In the long and storied history of Hope’s Peak, the teaching facilities were always being upgraded, built and rebuilt. Each iteration of the academy was built on the bones of the past, and each iteration of its student body would see the dramatic changes unfold firsthand. In front of Najika Ando stood the old and condemned building that once served as Hope’s Peak Academy, now replaced by the newer and bigger building. It almost seemed quaint.

“Sure you don’t wanna run away?”   


“... Run away from what? Dust? Spiderwebs? Give me a break…”

“Ghosts, you bonehead! You’re supposed to be afraid of ghosts!”

“Ghosts aren’t real.”

As the sun hung low in the sky, there was a small party gathered outside the old building, called on a dare by one Hiyoko Saionji, the small imp with long blonde hair. Of course, the challenge was only issued in a heated exchange of insults between herself and one Kenichi Oogawa, but the number of individuals spending the night in the supposedly haunted building spun out of control rapidly.

“I’m told this old building was host to all kinds of occult activity, even ritual sacrifice. You’ve never seen anything paranormal, in any of your cases, Ken-san?”

While Kenichi’s voice was deep and rumbling, and Hiyoko’s high and girlish, Junichi Saito had a mischievous purr, as if he was always up to no good. In Najika’s mind, whenever she pictured him, rather than the blonde haired youth with dull eyes, she thought of the Cheshire Cat, from a book she read when she was younger.

_ I wonder if Saito-senpai has ever read Alice in Wonderland. _

“Huh? Wait… can none of you see it? The g-ghost… the evil spirit attached to Saito-kun’s back… c-could it be the work of a curse!?”

The energetic girl was someone Najika had only just met; from Class 77-B, her name was Ibuki Mioda, the Ultimate Musician, with an outrageous personality and loud yet clear voice to match. The alleged evil spirit she was referring to was member of the 76th Class, a classmate and invitee of Junichi, named Takara Ide. Najika understood the confusion; her skin was ghostly pale, and she had long straight black hair, hiding most of her features save for a single intense eye gazing outwards. Since her arrival, she hadn’t said a thing, her silence contrasting with the loud bickering always ensuing among the group, and only highlighting her eerie nature.

Najika and Takara’s gazes met, for a few moments. Strangely, both felt a small flicker of understanding, although neither could say why.

While Junichi had invited himself and Takara, Ibuki was invited by a tall girl with vibrant red hair named Mahiru Koizumi, the Ultimate Photographer, also from Class 77-B. Hiyoko had invited Mahiru, apparently wanting to grow closer with that particular classmate, but Mahiru had in turn invited Ibuki, seeking to make it more of a bonding affair for the 77th Class.

“Leave her alone, Mioda. Just because she isn’t as loud and crass as you doesn’t mean she’s weird,” Kenichi snapped.

“Hey! Watch your mouth! A boy like you has no business calling Mioda-san crass!”

Kenichi was always one to have a sharp barb ready as a retort, but at Mahiru’s bark, he sucked in a breath and shut his mouth, staring wide-eyed at her. Najika and Hiyoko were both impressed.

_ What a scary power... I wonder if I could do something like that, if I was asked to. _

“Wow, he actually stopped talking! Nice job, Big Sister Mahiru!” Hiyoko cheered, throwing her arms up in the air.

“B-Big Sister?” Mahiru asked, a slight blush dusting her cheeks.

“Give me a break… So what, is Koizumi-san supposed to be Team Mom, or something? You pack us some lunches?” Kenichi muttered, sounding as unhappy as ever.

“Ibuki’s having a hard time keeping this family straight… If Koizumi-chan is your Mom, does that make Saionji-chan your aunt!? But she doesn’t look nearly old enough for that!” Ibuki exclaimed, counting on her fingers for some reason.

“Perhaps she married in,” Junichi offered, nonsensically.

“A child bride!?” Ibuki asked, in horror.

“Well, what do you think, Najika-chan?” Junichi then asked, turning his smile and vacant gaze to the Ultimate Assistant.

Najika stared back at him, face completely neutral. She tried to analyze his expression, his tone, to decide what would be the most proper response. He gave her nothing to work with, so instead, Najika just smiled.

“I don’t think anything at all, Saito-senpai!”

_ I don’t think anything, unless it’s helpful to all of you. _

“I-I…”

Takara was speaking, much to everyone’s surprise. The bickering and conversation died down, to let the eerie woman speak her piece without interruption. Takara seemed keenly aware of the silence, her single visible eye rolling around in its socket to observe the others.

“Sh-She probably thinks that this is stupid. I know I d-do.”

Everyone remained silent after Takara spoke, except for Kenichi, who snorted in amusement.

“Ghost girl finally says something, and it’s the honest to God truth. Would you look at that?” He said, the corners of his mouth tilted every so slightly upward. “She’s right, y’know. This is the dumbest shit I’ve ever done.”

_ It’s stupid? _

“What’s dumb about spending a night inside a haunted house with your classmates!? That’s something tons of teenagers do!” Hiyoko protested.

_ It’s normal? _

“Where do you get your ideas about what teenagers do? TV?” Kenichi asked, leaning down so that he was at eye level with Hiyoko.

“Hey! Who cares if it’s normal or not? We should all do the stuff we want to do! So if you think it’s stupid, you can leave us to have our fun!” Mahiru said, pointing in Kenichi’s face firmly.

_ I care. _

Kenichi stood up straight, frowning at Mahiru. Then, he shrugged, making sure his hair was still smoothed out and perfectly groomed, as it always seemed to be.

“... It’s not like I have anything better to do. Besides, it’ll be worth it to see you get all freaked out, whenever you hear a scary noise, Koizumi-san,” he said, finding a way to sound cocky even in defeat.

Rolling her eyes and huffing, Mahiru grabbed Hiyoko’s hand and led the way, going into the old building first, through the large and creaking front doors. Ibuki followed, prancing after, and then there was Junichi, stepping in with his hands in his pockets and Takara clinging to his back. Finally, Kenichi took a step towards the door and looked over his shoulder, at Najika.

“Yo, Ando, you coming? Don’t tell me you buy this ghost crap… Give me a break…” He said, rolling his eyes.

Najika smiled again, putting on a happy mask, despite her internal apathy.

“I’ll be right behind you, Oogawa-san!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a review, feedback, or just your general thoughts, and leave a kudos on this work if you liked it!


	5. To Survive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my lovely wife Shea for doing editing duty this time. Original character concept for Najika Ando belongs to my friend Celia. Content warning: there's brief mention of child abuse that was discussed more heavily in Chapter 1.

Then

Najika Ando was mostly silent, as she was processed through the foster care system. She only ever answered exactly what she needed to, and never emoted much at all. Evaluated by a laundry list of psychiatrists, with some therapists giving a go at trying to get her to open up about her abuse, nobody could ever get a proper response out of the young girl. It was months before they finally decided to shuffle her off to a foster family, and give up on building a case against her father.

“Creepy kid. What happened?”

“Says her dad was getting handsy, or something. Who cares? Get her in the car.”

_ Who cares? _

Najika didn’t take in the scenery as they drove, or think about anything in particular; her mind was a calm surface of water, without a drop of thought to make a single ripple. Her vacant gaze was focused on the back of the car seat in front of her, but although her mind was empty, her ears were alert.

“So where are we taking her? Seems pretty out in the middle of nowhere.”

“Nice couple, adopts a bunch of troubled kids like her. I think she’s the oldest one, though. Two ladies, uh… Fujikawa was the name, I think.”

The man driving turned his head slightly to glance back at Najika.

“Najika Fujikawa. You like that, Najika-san?”

Najika said nothing.

_ A name is a name. I didn’t get to pick the last one; why should I get to pick this one? _

“... No comment. Does she ever talk?”

“Nope. Haven’t heard a peep out of her.”

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, by and large. On occasion, one of the police officers would try to goad some conversation or small talk out of Najika, things like asking her if she liked candy, or what her favorite animal was. There was never any reply; she didn’t see the point.

_ We’re here. _

“We’re here. You need help getting out, Najika-san?”

Najika shook her head, the first thing she had done to acknowledge their existence since the long car ride out to the countryside began. She undid her own seatbelt, waiting for one of them to open her door. Already waiting outside were two women; one tall and thin, the other short and fat. Najika didn’t bother trying to think of who they were as she got out of the car; they’d explain soon enough.

“So… Kobayashi-san, this is…” one of the officers began, awkwardly.

“Little Najika, right? I’m Kobayashi Sana, and this is Kobayashi Niko,” the tall woman said, crouching down to get closer to Najika’s eye level.

“We’re your new moms, squirt! But you don’t have to bother with honorifics or any crap like that with me! I’m just a big kid myself!”

The fat one, Niko, was louder, but Najika could dimly appreciate her sincerity. She had never met an adult so open and crass, nor had she ever met two women in a relationship.

_ I didn’t know two girls could like each other. _

Still, Najika was unimpressed; adults usually had too many flaws to count, and even if they made good first impressions, like these two women, or the two police officers, they would likely disappoint in the end.

“Not the talkative type, eh? I don’t blame you. I hate boring conversations,” Niko said. “I mean, who wants to listen to boring adults all day anyways?”

Najika’s eyes lazily gazed towards her, and then to Sana. She seemed to be the quieter, more reserved one. Even now, she seemed to fret at the casual tone of the conversation.

_ You’re not wrong, Kobayashi-san. _

“So why don’t we introduce you to the other kiddos? Would you like that, Najika?”

Najika’s eyebrows raised, and she perked up.

_ Other kids? _

From the small house at the end of the driveway came a tidal wave of children, some close to Najika’s age, but most appearing to be younger. She tried to do a quick headcount, making it as far as nine individuals before the swarm crashed upon her. The smaller children immediately started to climb her, clinging to her arms and shoulders, while the elder children refrained from getting physical, merely sizing up their newest adopted sibling. Even under the weight of several children, Najika remained standing up straight, even raising her arms and dangling the little ones from them.

“Why do you have so many children, Kobayashi-san?”

Najika looked to Sana, eyebrows raised. It was the liveliest she had looked in weeks. Something approaching hope swelled in her heart, despite her best attempts to quash it; she had no high opinion of adults, but other children were able to be trusted.

“Well… it’s sort of a grown up reason but…” Sana began, wringing her hands anxiously.

“It’s because the thought of getting pregnant is mortifying to us, even if a fella’s not involved, Najika!”

Najika couldn’t help but be surprised by Niko’s explanation; she didn’t even know what that meant.

_ What do boys have to do with having children…? _

“Hey! You’re Najika, right?”

Najika looked to her side, at one small boy dangling off of her arm. He was probably just a few years younger than her, rough and tumble looking, with snot running from his nose.

“If you’re a girl, how come you’re so strong? Only grown-ups can lift me!”

Najika cocked her head, but didn’t need to think about the question.

“Well, if I wasn’t strong enough to lift you, I’d drop you, and I wouldn’t want to do that,” she explained, as if it was obvious.

“Well what if I weighed a million tonnes!?”

“I’d still lift you. You would get hurt if I dropped you.”

“Well… what if Ultraman was pulling on my legs, to try to get you to drop me!?”

Najika didn’t know who that was.

“I’m not sure how strong Ultraman is, but… if he wanted to hurt you, I’d just have to be strong enough to stop that from happening.”

“Wow Najika, you’re amazing!”

With those words, that expression of awe, Najika allowed herself a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was pointed out to me in editing that gay marriage isn't actually legal in Japan just yet, but I kept Najika's new moms being married anyways; Dangan Ronpa's world has always been a little more futuristic than ours, so I like to think it's gotten a little more progressive, too.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a kudos and a comment, and show this work to your friends if you enjoyed it!


	6. Dangan In The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks go to my wife Shea for helping me edit this chapter, this time around. Takara Ide and Junichi Saito belong to my good buddy Elliot, and the original concept for Najika Ando belongs to my friend Celia. No content warnings, for this chapter.

Now

_ It’s seriously dusty in here… and all these cobwebs… give me a break… _

Kenichi waved a hand in front of him as he stepped inside the abandoned building, a look of disgust already resting on his face. He double checked his freshly pressed Hope’s Peak uniform, making sure it as clean as the day he got it. Murder victims and deranged killers were one thing, but Kenichi couldn’t stand getting his clothes dirty.

_ Not to mention these Ultimate Losers. Is this seriously the best the 77th Class has to offer? Saionji and Ibuki are loudmouths, Ando’s a shrinking violet, and that Koizumi is way too bossy… even if she does have really nice legs… _

“Oogawa-san!”

Kenichi was snapped out of his thoughts by the high pitched bark of Mahiru Koizumi. The thought crossed his mind that she could tell he was thinking about her.

“Shouldn’t you be at the front of the group? You’re a boy, aren’t you?”

“Give me a break…” Kenichi said, rubbing the back of his head. “What about Saito? He’s a boy, and an upperclassman,” Kenichi retorted.

“Trying to shirk your duties, huh? So unreliable! Jeeze!”

Koizumi huffed and dropped the matter, continuing to walk deeper into the school with Hiyoko Saionji and Ibuki Mioda in tow. Kenichi was the fourth in line, followed by Junichi Saito, and clinging to him, Takara Ide. Finally, at the very back was Najika Ando, observing every detail with wide, inquisitive eyes.

“Yo, Ando, move up here. Skip the line. Let the gloom crew go last,” Kenichi directed.

“Th-That’s f-... Suits m-me fine… Y-You guys will get killed first…” Takara muttered.

“I don’t think anyone’s in danger of being killed! After all, spirits don’t have physical bodies,” Junichi remarked, cheerily. “Of course, if there are any cultists still occupying this building, that may be a different matter,” he added, quietly.

“Hey! I heard that! Stop saying stuff like that, you’re scaring Saionji-san!”

Kenichi instinctively flinched whenever Mahiru spoke, but part of him appreciated her ability to take charge. Not that he would ever admit it.

“Huh? Why would I be scared of that stuff, Big Sister? I could definitely clobber some weirdos in robes!”

“Huh? But Hiyoko, you’re… really small…”

“Maybe she expands when she gets angry,” Ibuki suggested, “like the Infraggable Kronk!”

“I think you might be confused about your comic books, Mioda-san...” Mahiru said, offering a good natured laugh.

“Someone else is in the building with us.”

Everyone stopped, and even someone as seasoned as Kenichi felt his blood go cold. Focusing his senses, Kenichi tried to drown out the sound of his own heartbeat and breath. He couldn’t hear or feel anything out of the ordinary.

“Second floor. It sounds like they’re moving around metal… maybe a kitchen?”

_ How can Ando detect something like that…? Has she cracked? _

“Th-That’s… She’s totally making that up…” Takara stuttered out.

“Why would I do that, Ide-san?”

“Everyone shut up for a second,” Kenichi said, not yet raising his voice. He turned his head up, looking at the decrepit ceiling. “... I don’t hear anything. You sure, Ando?”

Najika nodded seriously to Kenichi, and then gave him a V with her fingers, expression unchanging.

“Already proclaiming victory!? But we haven’t even found anything yet!” Ibuki declared, alarmed.

“Alright… hang on, let me go first, Mahiru,” Kenichi said, quietly, as he moved to the front of the group.

“Mahiru…?”

“I-I mean Koizumi-san!” Kenichi corrected, his face instantly turning red. “Shouldn’t you be worried about me, anyways!? There could be some kind of vagrant up there!”

“I’m sure she isn’t worried at all. You’ll get to the bottom of this, Ken-san,” Junichi assured, although his smooth purr of a voice made it sound more mischievous than sincere.

“Give me a break…”

_ Even if it is someone dangerous… I’ll take care of them. _

_ It wouldn’t be the first time. _

Kenichi moved slowly and carefully, footsteps nearly silent as he crept forward, the group moving up behind him. He still couldn’t hear a thing from upstairs, but found that it probably didn’t matter; the stairway at the end of the main entry hall was blocked by a few fallen wooden pillars and desks, debris left over that would be bulldozed away when the building was taken down.

“Whoever it is has more patience for this crap than I do. I’m not messing up my uniform, climbing through this,” Kenichi said.

“I’m sure Saionji-chan could fit,” Junichi observed.

“As if! You’re probably just using that as an excuse to look up my kimono!”

Staring at the debris for a few moments, Najika took a few steps forward, crouched, and hooked her fingers under it. Then, as if it was all as light as a feather, lifted it clear over her head as she stood back up.

Nobody moved to head up the stairs, instead gawking at Najika.

“How did she…?”

Even Junichi seemed vaguely surprised, the tiniest twitch of his normally catlike smile betraying the amazing feat on show in front of him. Kenichi furrowed his brow; he had sized up Najika earlier, not finding much athletic about her somewhat pudgy and short frame, and yet here she was, displaying strength that the combined students couldn’t muster.

_ She isn’t human… there’s no way she’s seriously doing this… _

“Um… if it’s not too much trouble, could someone start moving up the stairs? It isn’t too heavy, but it’s making my hands dirty…” Najika requested, politely.

Snapped out of his trance, Kenichi scrambled under the debris, and the rest of the group followed, maneuvering like Najika was going to drop it on their heads at any moment. Carefully positioning herself, Najika moved under the obstacles she was lifting, and then dropped them, creating an unbelievable cacophony of noise.

“Well… whoever’s up here knows they’re not alone, now…” Kenichi muttered, turning his attention back up, and moving forward. A scent was wafting through the air, something savory that made Kenichi’s stomach growl.

_ Cultists and a kitchen… _

Kenichi’s hand twitched, instinctively moving towards the inside of his jacket, but he stopped himself from going too far; he at least had to see what was happening before he made any hasty decisions. Not far away from the second floor landing, there was a door slightly ajar. Light, sounds, and smells of a kitchen leaked through the opening. Stopping before the door, Kenichi hesitated, not yet sliding it the rest of the way open; some part of him was afraid of what he would find.

“What’s wrong?”

Mahiru was the closest to Kenichi. Although she had a harsh personality, she was brave, and willing to protect her friends. Kenichi reached up and pressed a hand against his own ribs, feeling his weapon underneath his jacket.

_ If Mahiru isn’t afraid, I’m not either. _

Kenichi lunged forward and slid open the door, revealing the kitchen, a menagerie of dishes being prepared on burners and inside ovens, almost every piece of functioning equipment in the room being put to use. Squealing in surprised was a short, round boy wearing a chef’s uniform and sporting a ridiculous, jutting hairstyle. Without giving him the chance to call for help, or reach for a weapon, Kenichi grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him to the ground.

“Who are you? What are you doing in here?”

“Oogawa-san, wait-” Mahiru tried to protest, but the target of her shout wasn’t listening.

“Some kind of sick pervert, trying to make a move? Figured you’d cook yourself up a meal before you attacked one of the students, out alone?”

“Well, I think that part might be true, but still-”

“Answer me, fat boy, before I shove you in one of these ovens!”

“Kenichi!”

Kenichi stopped, dropping his bad cop routine and looking over at Mahiru, eyebrows raised.

“... His name is Hanamura Teruteru. He’s in our class,” She said, sounding somewhat reluctant to acknowledge him.

Kenichi looked back down at the crying and blubbering mass beneath him, narrowing his eyes.

“Alright. So, Hanamura, what are you doing in here?”

“I-I was-” Teruteru said, trying to compose himself. “I can’t just let a kitchen go to waste without cooking in it! That’s not a crime!”

Kenichi picked Teruteru up, brushing him off. “What the Hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m the Ultimate Chef! Haven’t you ever heard of the famous Hanamura Family Diner? When I heard they were going to tear down this building… I couldn’t bear the thought of such a prestigious kitchen being destroyed right under my nose!”

“... Seriously? Koizumi-san, you know this guy, is he legit?”

Mahiru sighed, shaking her head. “Jeeze, shouldn’t you be able to tell? Of course he’s telling the truth. Who would make up such an outrageous lie!?”

_ Give me a break. _

“Alright, Hanamura, how’d you get up here? The stairs were blocked, and you don’t look like the type to be able to lift all that junk,” Kenichi asked.

“W-Well,” Teruteru began, pressing his index fingers together nervously, “I tried to get up here, but I couldn’t quite get past all that stuff, so I came in through one of the windows. I have a lot of expertise at that sort of thing.”

“... Climbing up to second floor windows?”

“Ah, so I guess it wasn’t the work of a food-worshipping Cult after all! Oh, do I sound disappointed?”

Junichi Saito and Takara Ide had arrived, and then followed by Najika Ando. Hiyoko Saionji and Ibuki Mioda arrived last.

“Th-There are so many unexpected guests… Well, I’m up to the challenge! The Ultimate Chef will cook a feast to remember for his fellow classmates,” Teruteru proclaimed boldly. “And maybe I can add in a few extra ingredients, for all of you lovely ladies,” he added, dubiously.

Kenichi furrowed his brow, and turned back to Mahiru.

“You change your mind about me shoving this guy in one of the ovens, let me know. It’d be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudos or a review if you enjoyed, and share this work with anyone who you think would enjoy it!


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